


Good Idea, Pie

by giraffeter



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Sexting, omgcprb2020, sexy pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giraffeter/pseuds/giraffeter
Summary: Forty-five minutes later, he’s pulling a steaming, fragrant pie out of the oven. The filling is bubbling but not too soupy; the crust is a gorgeous golden-brown, delicately fluted around the edges; and across the top, in perfectly crisp cut-out letters, it bears the proud message:S E N D  N U D E S.~*~Worried his long-distance relationship with Jack might start to get stale, Bitty turns to the medium he knows best: baked goods.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Larissa "Lardo" Duan & Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 54
Kudos: 355
Collections: OMGCP Reverse Bang 2020





	Good Idea, Pie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BajillionKittens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BajillionKittens/gifts).



> Inspired by artwork from [bajillionkittens](https://bajillionkittens.tumblr.com/post/620488049106829312/some-of-the-art-for-my-second-omgcpreversebang)!

It’s Study Night at the Haus, which means no sports on TV, no loud music, and double fines for bickering (this last rule directed specifically at Dex and Nursey). Of the policies Bitty’s enacted as team captain, Study Night may not be anyone’s favorite (least of all his own), but as captain, it’s important to set a good example. Nobody’s dipping below the minimum GPA they need to stay on the team — not on his watch.

Bitty sets a plate of cranberry-almond-white-chocolate-chip cookies on the table and buckles down to work on his paper for Seminar in Contemporary Literature. “‘Swawesome, thanks Bitty,” Chowder says, shoving a cookie in his mouth.

“You’re welcome, Chowder, and please try to _chew_ those,” Bitty replies.

“Nurse,” Dex says impatiently. Nursey keeps frowning at his laptop, oblivious. _“Nursey,_ ” Dex says again, a little louder. He waves a hand in front of Nursey’s face.

“ _What,_ Dex?” Nursey asks, taking out an earbud. “You’re totally throwing off my groove.”

“I can hear your shitty music through your headphones,” Dex says. Bitty clears his throat and glances pointedly at the fine jar. Dex sighs and rolls his eyes. “Would you _please_ turn your music down a little? I would really _appreciate_ it.”

“Sure, brah,” Nurse says with a wink. “Thanks for asking so _nicely._ ”

Dex mutters something with the word _brah_ in it, but returns to his studying.

All is quiet for a while. Bitty picks listlessly at his cookie, wishing he had even half as many ideas for this stupid paper as he did for variations on this recipe. Why couldn’t Philip Roth have written a cookbook?

Chowder’s phone makes a soft _ping._ Absently, he pulls it out and looks at it. His eyes widen; his face flushes a deep, uniform red. He makes a sound like “ _hoo_.”

“Y’okay, Chowder?” Dex asks.

“ _Hoo!_ ” Chowder says again. “Hoo hoo!” He shakes his head, seeming to collect himself. “Uh, I’m gonna...I’m gonna go upstairs and...g’night!” He hastily stuffs his books and notebooks into his bag and hurries upstairs.

“What on earth was that?” Bitty asks.

Dex and Nursey exchange a knowing look. “He probably got a WhatsApp from Caitlin,” Dex says. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again tonight.”

Chowder’s girlfriend was spending the semester studying abroad in Paris; the two of them had been exchanging nonstop messages, texts, and Skype calls since she left.

“You know how it is in an LDR, Bitty,” Nurse winks. “Gotta keep things a little _spicy,_ make sure the other person’s still thinking about you when you’re not together.”

“Yeah, doesn’t Jack ever send you nudes from the road?” Hops asks.

 _“Double_ fine, asking the Captain about his boyfriend,” Nursey snaps at him.

Bitty smiles serenely at Hops, who, grumbling, deposits a handful of crumpled bills in the fine jar. Inwardly, though, his mind is whirling.

The truth is, he and Jack _haven’t_ been exchanging nudes when Jack’s on the road; they’ve had their share of steamy Skype sessions when Jack’s alone in his apartment in Providence, but when he’s on the road, Jack prefers to stay focused on the game (not to mention preserving his privacy from whatever teammate he ends up rooming with). If Bitty’s honest, he’s never even _taken_ a racy picture of himself, let alone sent it to someone else. Jack is older, more sexually experienced — surely if he wanted them to be doing that kind of thing, he would have said so?

 _Right, because Jack is the king of saying things,_ he thinks to himself wryly. What if Jack _has_ been expecting Bitty to do these things — sexting, nudes, dick pics — and is just too taciturn, and polite, and — and — _Canadian_ to say anything about it?

“Well, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” he says brightly to his Hausmates. “See y’all in the morning!”

Up in his bedroom, he pulls out his phone, but the very sight of his face in the front-facing camera makes him put it down in a paroxysm of blushes. _Maybe I should start out smaller_ , he thinks. OK. Just a little light sexting. He’s a sexy person, he can do this.

 _I can’t wait to see you when you get back_ 😉💦🍆💋, he types into WhatsApp, quickly hitting _Send_ before he can think about it too much. He chews on the skin around his thumbnail while he waits to see what Jack will say.

 _Aw, I can’t wait to see you too!_ Jack says. After a moment, a second message pops up. _Is that an eggplant? I didn’t think you liked eggplant, but we can cook some together next time you’re in town if you want._

“Oh my _Lord,_ ” Bitty whispers to himself, covering his eyes with his hands. They are so bad at this. _Never mind,_ he texts back. _Have a good night, sweetheart! I love you!_

 _I love you too,_ Jack texts back. Bitty smiles at his phone and starts getting ready for bed.

But that night, he finds he can’t sleep. Jack is _hot_ , is the thing. Jack is _mega-hot_. Now that he thinks about it, he would _love_ it if Jack sent him nudes from the road. Plus, what if Nursey was right? What if they’re not doing enough to keep the spice in their long-distance relationship? Jack is surrounded by attractive people, everywhere he goes — sexy athletes, eager fans, the young women that some people might call “puck bunnies” but Bitty prefers to call “young lady hockey enthusiasts.” He knows Jack would never cheat on him, but what if Jack starts to lose interest?

 _Keeping things spicy?_ he thinks, clutching his pillow to his chest with a determined scowl. _I can be spicy. I got a whole_ cabinet _of spices with Mr. Jack Zimmermann’s name on them._

~*~

He wakes up the next morning determined to give this whole “spice up the LDR” thing another shot.

 **Bitty**  
Good morning sexy!

 **Jack**  
Morning! How’s your English paper going?

“Uggghhh,” Bitty groans. Thinking about the paper, which he had abandoned last night to toss and turn and think about how to get this man to send him a dang dick pic already, was a total turnoff. _Perseverance, Bitty,_ he tells himself.

 **Bitty**  
Just fine!  
How’s your morning?

 **Jack**  
Good! About to jump in the shower, then head to morning cardio

 _This is my chance,_ Bitty thinks. _OK. Be smooth._

 **Bitty**  
Getting in the shower, huh? Wish I was there to see that  
You should send me a pic 😉

There’s a pause. Bitty paces around his room, wondering if maybe Jack didn’t see his message before he got in the shower, or maybe Jack is appalled by his behavior and is thinking of how to break up with him, or maybe Jack is taking a sexy shower pic _right now_ to send him oh _Lord_ he shouldn’t have done this before breakfast, Bitty is about to _throw up._

Finally, his phone pings with a new notification. Jack has sent him a picture. A bathroom mirror selfie, Jack’s smiling face, his perfectly-sculpted shoulders in a Providence Falconers t-shirt. Bitty groans again, flopping down on his bed in frustration (then picks his phone back up and taps the photo to make sure he saves it, because it might not be naked but it’s still a very cute and nice picture of his very cute and nice boyfriend).

 **Bitty:**  
You’re so cute!

 _This is ridiculous_ , he thinks, stomping downstairs to toast a slice of the homemade multigrain bread he’d made for the Haus over the weekend. It should not be this hard to get a man who actually lets you see his naked body, who lets you touch it and kiss it and really do all kinds of things with it that you were starting to think you’d never get to do with _anyone_ , let alone with someone as hot as Jack Zimmermann, to send you one lousy picture of said naked body.

 **Jack:**  
What are you up to today?

 **Bitty:**  
Senior Seminar, leg day w/the team  
Might make a cranberry apple pie later

 **Jack:**  
Yum!  
Send me a picture of how it turns out!

Of course, _that_ he wants a picture of. Bitty sighs, shaking his head, and trudges back upstairs to get dressed.

~*~

He spends the rest of the day going to class, talking strategy with the coaches, working out with the team, and internally working himself into a full-on _tizzy_. Jack doesn’t think of him as a sexual person. Jack is more interested in his baked goods than his body. Jack is out on the road half the season, and their relationship is going to go stale and cold and...unspicy.

When he gets home, he’s in a terrible mood, and there’s only one thing to be done about that. He gets out his dough cutter and rolling pin with grim determination.

“You OK, Bitty?” Ford asks, stopping by the kitchen on her way in the door. As usual, some of the team is coming by to watch Jack’s game tonight; the pie is, ostensibly, for them.

“Yep.” Bitty clamps his apple slicer/corer/peeler to the counter perhaps a bit more firmly than necessary.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

She adjusts her glasses, peering at him. “You gonna bake your feelings about it?”

Bitty slams a brick of butter down onto the counter. “Yep.”

“OK, well...there’s nothing wrong with channeling your feelings into your art, but we’ll be hanging out in the living room if you want to take a break.”

“Thanks, honey.”

The familiar motions of cutting the cold butter into the flour, rolling out the discs of chilled dough, and layering sliced fruit and sugar and spices into the pie dish all have a calming effect on Bitty; by the time he’s rolling out the crust for the top, he’s feeling almost calm. _I_ so _do not have it in me to do a lattice top tonight,_ he thinks, setting aside his rolling pastry cutter, _but maybe some fun cutouts?_ If he’s going to send Jack a picture of this pie, it might as well be pretty. Too bad the pie’s the only thing he seems to want a picture of.

He gets out the bin of cookie cutters, and pauses when he sees the bag of letter shapes. Usually he only uses those to make fondant letters for birthday cakes, but seeing them now, inspiration strikes.

Forty-five minutes later, he’s pulling a steaming, fragrant pie out of the oven. The filling is bubbling but not too soupy; the crust is a gorgeous golden-brown, delicately fluted around the edges; and across the top, in perfectly crisp cut-out letters, it bears the proud message:

_S E N D N U D E S._

Smiling to himself, Bitty does just a _teensy_ bit of food styling, arranging a blue-and-white checked napkin around the bottom of the plate and moving it to the best light in the kitchen, then snaps the pic. This is _way_ easier than taking pictures of himself. He takes pictures of his pastry creations like this for his Instagram all the time (although he won’t be posting this one, obviously, which is a shame because the pie is _gorgeous_ , but we all make sacrifices for love), so he knows exactly how to make the pie look its best for the photo.

He chuckles and sends the picture to Jack, knowing full well Jack won’t see it until after the game. Then he slices the pie, taking care to slice through the letters in a way that destroys all evidence of his pastry-based thirst. The pie’s a _little_ warm to be slicing this soon, and some of the filling is going to run out over everyone’s plates, but that’s a _far_ better outcome than explaining to anyone what he’s doing.

He watches the game with a little frisson of excitement dancing in his belly, thinking of Jack seeing the pie picture later tonight. After the game, he heads up to his room and opens a book, trying to pretend he’s studying and not just waiting by the phone. Finally, he gets a text alert.

 **Jack**  
Bits. No.

 **Bitty**  
:(

_Well, I tried,_ Bitty thinks, turning off the light with a resigned sigh. He wants to keep the spice in their relationship, but he’s not going to pressure Jack to do anything he’s not comfortable with. He guesses it’s back to the drawing board.

~*~

The next morning, Jack is still frowning at his phone in consternation. _Send nudes?_ Does Bitty really want him to send him a naked picture, or is this, like, an internet meme thing he doesn’t get?

Growing up with famous parents, Jack has had it drilled into him from a very young age that someone could be taking his picture at any moment, and that he should be extra-careful at parties or any other public gatherings to make sure no one photographs him doing anything he shouldn’t be. Even in the age of smartphones and social media, he’s always been really, really careful, which is part of the reason why, even at the height of his overdose scandal, no media outlets had been able to produce so much as a picture of him holding a beer.

He’d _love_ to have some sexy pictures of Bitty, is the thing, despite his knee-jerk reaction the night before; he’s even considered asking if he could take some, a few times. The way the morning sunlight filters through the curtains in his apartment, picking out every freckle as though it were a speck of gold leaf, like Bitty’s skin is an illuminated manuscript only Jack gets to read — sometimes it’s hard _not_ to photograph him. But every time he thinks about it, he hears his mother’s voice in his head, saying “treat every photograph of you as though everyone will see it, and as though it will last forever.” He’d hate to see Bitty caught up in some ‘celebrity nudes’ scandal just because Jack is both horny and famous.

 **Jack**  
Can I ask you a photography question?

 **Lardo**  
Sure, what’s up?

 **Jack**  
If a guy asks you to “send nudes” is that like a serious thing? Does he actually want the nudes?

 **Lardo**  
OK well first of all  
That is not a photography question  
You get that right?

 **Jack**  
Yeah. Sorry.

 **Lardo**  
Second of all  
I’ve found that a p good way to figure out what a guy means  
Is to just like  
Ask him what he means

 **Jack**  
I know.  
I just don’t want to look uncool if this is like an internet thing I’m supposed to know about. Like the Smirnoff Ice thing.

 **Lardo**  
I already told you I’m not explaining that again so don’t even try

 **Jack**  
Haha OK

 **Lardo**  
Just remember Auntie Lardo’s 6 Tips for Successful Relationships:  
1.) Communicate  
2.) Communicate  
3.) Communicate  
4.) Lubricate  
5.) Lubricate  
6.) Lubricate

Jack bursts out laughing. _Lardo coming in clutch with the relationship advice assist as usual_ , he thinks. He shakes his head, then puffs out a deep breath. _OK. You can do this. Just call him and ask._

“Honey?” Bitty asks when he picks up the phone. “I wasn’t expecting to get to talk to you ‘til later, are you back from Pittsburgh already?”

“Yeah, we just got back,” Jack says. “Do you have a second to talk?”

“Sure! Let me just go upstairs, Ollie and Wicks are watching _Grey’s Anatomy._ ”

Jack can hear rustling sounds in the background as Bitty moves up the stairs, then the faint sound of his door closing. He closes his eyes, imagining Bitty’s room in the Haus, and tries to suppress a familiar twinge of regret that he hadn’t made a move sooner, when Bitty was still right across the hall, close enough to touch.

“OK!” Bitty says brightly. “How was the flight back? Y’all crushed it last night by the way, we were all watching and cheering for you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Jack swallows, psyching himself up. “About last night...”

“Yeah,” Bitty sighs. “I figured that was what you wanted to talk about.”

Jack inhales to ask a question, but before he can, a torrent of words comes pouring through the phone.

“Honey, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I just thought it would be kind of cute, and funny, but of course I don’t mean to make you feel pressured or anything, I was just...being silly!” Bitty babbles. “The whole thing was just...silly,” he finishes weakly.

“Oh.” Jack blinks. “So...you don’t really want me to, euh, ‘send nudes’?”

“ _No!_ ”

“Oh,” Jack says again, feeling oddly disappointed. There’s an awkward pause.

“Well…” Bitty says, drawing the word out in that melted-honey accent of his. “I mean...not if you don’t _want_ to.”

“But if I did want to?”

He can hear Bitty draw a deep, shaky breath. “Then...yes, honey, if that was something you’d be into, I...think I’d like that very much.” His voice has dropped a step, sliding into the low, quiet register he only uses when he’s turned on.

Jack draws a breath of his own. “OK,” he says. “Could we...maybe discuss some ground rules?”

They talk about it for a while, agreeing on some limits and some safeguards for their privacy. It’s not a sexy conversation, exactly, but Jack still finds himself excited by it. Even more than the thought of getting a hot picture or two to keep him company on the road, it’s exhilarating to be able to talk to Bitty like this; he can’t believe he ever considered _not_ talking to him about it. He can feel the future unspooling in front of him, full of frank, trusting conversation with the person he loves most.

“I guess I was worried that, you know, with you on the road so much, that things might...get a little stale, between us,” Bitty confesses at one point.

“Really?” Jack asks.

“Yeah, I just...I want to make sure you’re still thinking about me.”

“Bits,” he says. “I’m always thinking about you. You don’t have to worry about that, OK? Nudes or no nudes.”

“OK,” Bitty says, his voice soft and tender. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Bitty sighs. “I should go, I have a bunch of homework to do before practice. Have a good day, honey.”

“You too.”

Jack hangs up, aware that he’s grinning like a lovesick fool, and goes to start sorting out his laundry. An hour later, his phone buzzes with a WhatsApp notification.

The picture is of Bitty’s bare torso, caught in the afternoon sunlight slanting through his bedroom window. He’s got his Samwell jersey rolled up and draped around his shoulders like a towel; the warm crimson of the jersey emphasizes the spreading pink blush staining Bitty’s neck, blooming out over his freckled chest. His hands are folded behind his neck, bringing out the strong, lean muscles of his shoulders, the curves of his biceps. His face isn’t fully visible in the picture, just his determined little chin, one bubblegum lip caught in his teeth.

 _Just getting changed for practice,_ the text reads. _Thinking of you xoxoxo_.

Jack is surprised by the intensity of his reaction; he burns, he aches, his mouth is filled with the taste of Bitty’s skin. _This was a good idea_ , he thinks hazily, abandoning his laundry to flop down on his bed, still looking at the picture. _That pie had some good ideas._

~*~

Game Night at the Haus, and Bitty is in his element. “The cheddar biscuits on the left have jalapenos, and the ones on the right don’t,” he says, setting a plate down on the table where Nursey is dealing out hands for Apples to Apples. “So those of you who don’t like spicy, make sure you stay to the right.”

“Thanks, Cap’n,” Tango says, giving him a dorky faux-salute.

“And over here, we’ve got chocolate-cherry-almond cookies, and then I’ve got a few just chocolate-cherry for you in the kitchen, Ford,” he says, making sure to set the plate of cookies out of range of where Dex is setting up the Settlers of Catan board.

“You’re so sweet, thank you!” Ford says. “I can come get them.”

“Oh don’t worry about it, I need to make another trip anyway, I’ve got homemade crackers with pepper jelly back there, too.” His phone buzzes, and he absently fishes it out of his pocket and glances at it.

The picture is in black-and-white, and obviously at a higher resolution than Jack’s phone camera is capable of. The lighting is soft and oblique, draping the dips and curves of Jack’s body in shadow. The part of Bitty’s mind that has retained its higher functioning wonders exactly how much of his photography equipment Jack dug out to get the shot; the rest of him is lost in the firm lines of Jack’s shoulders, the soft sweep of his spine, the two perfect muscular divots in each side of Jack’s unparalleled, world-famous ass.

Bitty’s tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth. He’s absently aware that Game Night is continuing around him — he thinks he might even be mid-conversation with Ford. He should probably say something. He opens his mouth and tries to speak.

“Hoo!” he says. He looks up to see that Ford is eyeing him curiously. “Um, haha,” Bitty adds. “I just — uh — _hoo!_ ” He glances back down at his phone and hastily closes WhatsApp. “I’m just gonna — you know what? I am just _so tired!_ Y’all just — uh — help yourselves to the rest of the stuff in the kitchen! G’night!”

**Author's Note:**

> For this year's OMGCPRB I really wanted to do something fun and a little sexy, and Bajillionkittens' art was a perfect match! Thanks as always to the incomparable Laurens for beta-ing.
> 
> Be sure to check out all the other amazing fic and artwork from the [2020 OMGCP Reverse Bang](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/omgcprb2020).


End file.
